You’ve dreamt before. Everyone has. So, just picture this. Imagine waking up in a place between dreaming and waking. You can do whatever you want, but you still have the sensations from waking. For now, it’s best not even to think of your waking form and your dreaming form. There is no difference. In there, in that place between, and in that place we had created, you were both things at once. Night and day. Ying and yang. Life and death.

Going under with Black Fire was a feat in and of itself. You could witness fictional events from the eyes of a real observer. You could experience the unexperienceable. You could live what could not be lived. Yet, in those places, you were glued in place as you were whisked along.

This was something else.

“Is it working?” I heard someone say.

It took me three seconds to determine it was Andrei. There was no time lag or anything—everyone here seemed synchronized with reality. Then again, what wasn’t reality?

From the way Carlotta described the daydreams, she could very much control herself during them. So, I stood.

“It looks like you’re sleep walking, man,” said Andrei again. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” I found myself saying. The words seemed detached from my body. Then, an even bigger thought I had to voice. “We built this.” Black Fire Online was our child and we had created something grand. It was nothing like watching The Crest and its Killers.

“Illagan is going to check your vitals,” said Uncle Nestor. I could hear his voice as if it were right next to me, and it was. I could see him, too. I could see the same room I had been standing in before.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I didn’t do anything. When did I transition?”

“Transition?” asked Carlotta. I heard her too. “This is what it’s always been like.”

“When did you first start using Black Fire?” Reggie asked Carlotta.

“Why?” When no one elaborated, she sighed. “Maybe a month or two ago.”

“That’s about the time we started making changes, Jayson.”

That seemed about right. I was surprised I could tell the passage of time in this place. Then again, it was important to not think of it as different places.

I wondered how long the transition was between waking and sleeping. It seemed I had just inhaled, closed my eyes, and woke up here. Though ‘here’ was an inaccurate assessment. I was still in a small room in the Haven. I was still aware of that.

Now, let me tell you exactly what I was seeing.

Menus sprang to life around me. They were the size of doorways, windows and auto-car EVs. They superimposed themselves over the austere room. I recognized them all from our tests. This was indeed Black Fire Online.

“You see this all the time?” I asked.

“Yes.” Carlotta’s voice rang through my existence. “Cool, eh?”

“Woah.” Holy shit. I paused. That didn’t sound quite right. It sounded better. I could hear Carlotta all throughout the place, as if she was inside my very head. “Reggie, when the hell did we integrate voice chat?”

“Just today. I pushed a change today. Why? It’s working?’

“Pretty well.”

“I can scream in here,” Carlotta said.

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“Please don’t do that,” Andrei urged.

I took note of my surroundings. I could see everyone. I could move around. As my perception shifted, so too did my understanding. I was not dreaming, no. I was not quite wakeful, either, though.

I moved my legs, but they were sluggish. I tried to place one foot over the other.

Vertigo lurched. The floor came up before me.

Something stopped my fall.

“Easy, buddy,” said Andrei.

“It takes some getting used to,” said Carlotta. “You’re not even in the thick of it yet.”

It was all a wonder to me, all these new elements of my existence. “Reggie,” I said again, “we need to tell people about this. This is completely different than what we’ve been expecting.”

He didn’t say anything. At the time, I didn’t think that was odd. I thought he had just missed the question.

Before I could ask again, though, something happened. That’s the only way I could have explained it. Something. One minute, I stood in that interrogation room in the Haven, and the next, I wasn’t.

It was a city, and I knew that much at the time. The condo towers were glass edifices sheening to a pure shine, their windows clean and free from pollution. This wasn’t Manila.

“This isn’t Manila,” I echoed. “Where are you guys?”

No one responded to me. No one heard.

“Guys?”

Still no response. I was getting anxious. Where had my friends gone? My palms began to sweat. I became aware they were sweating. I shook. I felt myself shaking. I felt more now than ever before.

“You are a hard man to track down,” said a voice.

I was no longer alone. Instead, an older woman stood in front of me. She looked to be in her 70s, with long braided gray hair. Wrinkles marred her face. Tattoos spread out across her chest. She smiled.

“Jayson Bernal Vargas,” she uttered.

She emphasized my second name—my Mother’s name. I didn’t want to hear it. “Yeah…?” I asked. “And who might you be.”

“This is Manila, by the way. This is the best possible version of it. The future version.” The woman spread her arms, ignoring the question. She looked out to the city as if it were her own tiny diorama that I was visiting. “What do you think of the place?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I won’t until you tell me what you think of the place.”

What could you do when you couldn’t wake up from a nightmare? It wasn’t a nightmare, exactly, but I couldn’t get out of it. It was supposed to be just a daydream, but it had quickly evolved into something larger.

So, I decided to indulge this strange woman. What was I to do?

“It’s…” I paused. “Unrealistic.”

“Hmph.” The woman smirked. “That much is true. Very true. It’s sad that it is. What else?”

I looked around. I didn’t really know what to think. The place reminded me of the cities you’d find on the covers of old science fiction paperback novels. “It’s only missing the flying cars,” I added. “There’s no way Manila would ever be like this.”

I must have felt what the woman was trying to show me. I stood in a place so far from reality, and she was trying to see if I enjoyed it.

“You made this place, then?”

She nodded.

“How?”

“Painstakingly. Every little detail. I think your home is here, too. But I wouldn’t advise you go there. Your barangay has been torn down to make way for a condominium complex. They pushed the… people out.”

She didn’t say squatters. She was being polite. “Can I go now?”

“In a second.” The woman raised a hand and turned her back to me. “In the meantime, I want to congratulate you, Jayson Bernal Vargas.”

I winced, ignoring what she said. “Stop calling me that.”

“What? Which part?”

You know which part.

I had come to the conclusion already that, likely, in this place, this woman, this apparition, could read my mind.

“Yup,” she said. “Pretty much. But yes, good job. Keep going.”

I guessed she was referring to Black Fire Online, but her praise meant little. I wasn’t sure what to think of her. This was all so confusing. I just wanted to leave.

“Not yet,” she said. “Oh, definitely not yet. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She stared at her wrist, and a watch appeared on it. “He’s just getting off the MRT now. You’ll want to see him.”

I felt myself squint, and tense. “Who?”

The albularyo smiled. “You know who.”